


Stars, Hide Your Fires

by BelladonnaWyck, raiast



Series: BellaRai Writes KinkTober 2020 [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alien Hannibal, Alternate Universe - Space Age, Breeding, Come Swallowing, Explorer Will, Full to Bursting, Logistics Hannibal, M/M, Mental Connections, Mpreg (Implied), Oviposition, Starring a bunch of other crew members that are complete dicks, Telepathy, Tentacle Monster Hannibal, Tentacle swallowing, Will Graham is a thirsty monsterfucker, Will gets off on monsters on main, and Will wouldn’t have it any other way, seriously he can’t get enough of those tentacles, you know what just don’t worry about them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:33:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26972212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelladonnaWyck/pseuds/BelladonnaWyck, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiast/pseuds/raiast
Summary: Will Graham has always felt as though he belonged in space; a vast and dark abyss to swallow him whole, absorb him into a greater part of the universe. Something grand to offset the way he is so wholly incapable of forming even the most basic of connections with another human being.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: BellaRai Writes KinkTober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958245
Comments: 21
Kudos: 235





	Stars, Hide Your Fires

**Author's Note:**

> Week two of Kinktober for us is Oviposition! Enjoy some good tentacle fun and happy birthday to our dear Maddie!

Will Graham has always felt as though he belonged in space; a vast and dark abyss to swallow him whole, absorb him into a greater part of the universe. Something grand to offset the way he is so wholly incapable of forming even the most basic of connections with another human being. He  _ gets along _ with his shipmates, in the sense that they’ve yet to abandon him upon some unknown rock and he’s resisted the urge to  _ accidentally _ open strategic airlocks on their vessel.

They _function,_ is the point. That’s all Captain Crawford cares about, all the Coalition cares about. If they can jettison from rock to rock, gather data, specimens and resources along the way and return to the Nav safely then something as trivial as _personal_ _relationships_ matters little in the grand scheme of things.

Will sighs when the door to the shuttle whirs open behind him, even as he senses the newest occupant to be the most tolerable of his small selection of company. All the same, Will steals away to the unused shuttle when he wishes for privacy, for  _ solitude, _ so even Hannibal Lecter’s company does little to brighten his dour mood.

“I thought I’d find you down here,” Hannibal’s thick, smoky voice rumbles with satisfaction at having proven himself right.

“Worst kept secret on the ship,” Will murmurs. “Never tell someone your hiding spot if you wish it to remain so.”

Hannibal settles into the co-pilot seat next to him, folding his long limbs together elegantly and tracking Will’s gaze out the cockpit window. “Or you could simply not hide.”

Will gives a soft, unamused huff at that, though his lips can’t help but quirk upwards, even briefly, at the suggestion. “You might be a bit newer, but I know the rest of the crew I work with. Trust me, they prefer it when I hide.”

Hannibal lets out a soft hum of consideration as he contemplates that for a moment, and then asks, seemingly out of nowhere, “Tell me, Will. What do you suppose you would do if you  _ did _ find another form of life out here? Some as yet unknown creature.”

Will doesn’t remove his gaze from the endless, black space that stretches before them. “That isn’t the mission.”

“Not the official mission, no,” Hannibal agrees, and Will can see his head nodding thoughtfully from the corner of his eye. “That’s not to say it isn’t  _ your _ mission.” Hannibal pauses long enough that Will nearly turns more fully towards him. “ Have you ever heard of the planet Novara?”

Will hasn’t, and he’s certain now Hannibal is only here to make fun of him just like everyone else does. “Did you come to join the endless parade of colleagues that enjoy mocking me for my  _ lofty dreams?” _ Will questions sharply, hackles raising though even as he says the words he knows that’s not what Hannibal is doing. “Or did you actually have something to report?” He tacks on before Hannibal can refute the claim; Will has a feeling the man’s true motivations would somehow unsettle him more.

“My probes returned a match for feldspars on a nearby planet. The atmosphere is conducive to the support of carbon-based life forms.”

Will gives a soft snort at the man’s flowery exposition. “You can simply say I’ll be able to work without a breather.” Silence stretches between them for a moment, Will feeling prickly and hostile even as Hannibal’s presence remains companionable. “Thanks,” he murmurs finally. “How long?”

“No more than a day or two. I’ll let you know when our arrival is imminent.”

Will stiffens at that. “You already set course?” He scowls at Hannibal’s hum of assent. “You don’t have the authority to do that.”

The man beside him is nonplussed at the reminder, standing casually as his lips pull into a smirk; his eyes glitter mischievously as though sharing some private joke between them when he leans closer to Will, placing a warm, solid hand on his shoulder. “Yes, well. I’d have waited, but our trusted navigator was nowhere to be found.”

Will bristles at the dig, gentle though it is, and shrugs out of Hannibal’s touch as his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. “Yeah, well. Try my comm next time how ‘bout?”

Hannibal moves to step away, seemingly content to leave Will in peace. His head dips low once more as he passes behind Will, hovering just over his shoulder so his breath spills warm over Will’s ear as he reminds him in a whisper, “You’ve turned it off.”

He’s relieved at the sound of the door opening once more, though it doesn’t close immediately afterward and Will knows that Hannibal lingers within it, apparently not quite ready to leave Will alone. He’s unsurprised when the other man speaks again, though could not have guessed the topic that would make a resurgence.

“You never did answer my question, Will. What will you do if you find something  _ other _ out there one day?”

_ See if I fit in any better with it than I do humans. _

It’s far too depressing a notion to admit out loud, so Will simply jerks his shoulder in an aborted shrug and continues to stare out into blackness. “I don’t know yet.”

\---

Hannibal watches Will from the navigation deck of the ship as he mounts his hoverbike, his WINSTON unit at his side. He’s been swallowed by the towering trees of the central forest on the planet they discovered within moments, and as soon as he disappears from view Hannibal is moving. 

He flips several switches on the navigation panel, smiling faintly to himself as WANDA speaks. 

“Hello Logistics Agent 1731 Hannibal Lecter. How may I assist you today?” Hannibal pushes a large black button on the display in front of him, and then flips a few more switches while WANDA awaits his reply. 

“Hello, WANDA. Would you be so kind as to power down for the next six hours for standard maintenance?” 

WANDA doesn’t reply immediately, scanning her database of protocol reactions. Hannibal flips one final switch and she stutters back to life. “I can initiate a full shutdown with the correct code word.” 

Hannibal’s smirk grows, this part of the shutdown being the easiest. “Of course, WANDA. The code is Bella.” 

“Shut down initiating in t-minus five minutes. Systems will be shut down for a maximum of six hours, including those essential to maintaining life. Oxygen stores will be depleted within four hours at the current crew capacity.” 

“How many hours of oxygen do we have if we lower capacity to two?” Hannibal inquires, glancing out the window again to the empty shadows of the forest. 

“Ten hours with a lowered crew capacity of two.” WANDA responds immediately, and Hannibal nods. More than enough time, her systems will be back on before they are ever in danger. 

“Excellent, thank you WANDA. Please turn off all communication systems starting now and don’t restore communications until prompted.” 

“Communications have been disabled. May I assist you with anything else, Agent Lecter?” 

“No thank you, I believe that will be all.” 

WANDA doesn’t respond again, no longer needed. Hannibal exits the navigation deck, searching for the temporary captain of the ship, Donald Sutcliffe. 

The crew of the Erebus has been on their mission for several weeks already, Sutcliffe elevated in status when Jack Crawford was called away to assist with a disturbance on one of the first terraformed planets in the inner ring. Sutcliffe was also a scientist, though a far more unscrupulous one than Hannibal or any other scientist Hannibal had ever interacted with. Donald preferred to kill and dissect rather than study and release other life forms. He considered anything not human or Old Earth-based to be inferior, their lives meaningless for anything other than the furthering of his endeavors. 

He finds the rest of the crew in Donald’s office, gathered around his desk in a tight circle, all of them with aggrieved looks and arguing. 

“He’s a freak and he’s derailing everything with his  _ side trip.  _ You know he won’t be back in time for us to arrive on schedule. All because of his pet project.” Freddie Lounds leaned against the table, agitation evident in her features. 

“Yes. Well. He’s just so incredibly  _ thorough,  _ isn’t he?” Chilton doesn’t roll his eyes, but Hannibal can see the desire to do so. 

“I think you pronounced psychotic wrong. He’s certifiable.” 

Hannibal’s fingers curl tightly into his palms and he reminds himself to remain calm. None of the crew are particularly palatable, but there is something particularly odious about the fiery haired journalist. 

Sutcliffe looks up finally, startles slightly at seeing Hannibal in the room. 

“Hannibal. What can I help you with?” Hannibal has loathed the other man since their time together as cadets, though he manages to smooth out his features now to smile in greeting. 

“Hello.” He nods to everyone gathered, before turning his gaze back to Donald. “I was reading through a journal entry for this ship’s class and noted it can be run by a single crew member. Do you know if there’s any truth to that seemingly lofty claim?” 

Donald puffs up like some sort of preening bird at being asked, looking at everyone gathered as though to ensure they’re all watching and listening. “That  _ is _ indeed a lofty goal. In order to handle the navigation you’d need at least one member, but even if that person was familiar with the mechanical systems I’d still say a minimum of two would be required for limited functionality of all systems.” 

Hannibal hums in consideration. “Excellent, thank you.” And then he lunges. 

\---

Will scowls down at the device in his hand as the screen flickers briefly and then fills with an error message. “Damn piece of junk,” he grumbles, clicking out of the message and giving a few firm  _ whacks _ to the side of the device. He gives a sigh of relief when this has the desired effect and his sample readings are displayed once more. 

He turns in the direction indicated, intent on following the device’s direction so he can take samples of the nearest body of water when the screen flickers again and the error message returns.  _ “Damnit,” _ he growls, powering down the handheld and shoving it in his knapsack. “Gotta start bringing a spare out with me, this is damned ridiculous.”

“Graham to Erebus, I’m experiencing technical difficulties with my reader,” Will announces into his comm. “Anyone in there able to meet me in the field with a replacement?” When silence meets him, he double-checks that he actually remembered to turn it on. 

“Graham to Erebus. Does anyone copy that? I need a new reader or I’m gonna have to search out these samples the old-fashioned way.”  _ That _ ought to get one of their lazy asses moving. The last thing any of the crew wants is for Will to spend even  _ longer _ in the field than he normally does.

Silence.

He knows he’s not particularly well-liked, but he expects at least  _ one _ of the crew to be polite enough to confirm his status. Will’s stomach twists, anxiety buzzing in his gut as he turns to his companion.

“Nothing. What do you think, think they finally decided to be rid of me for good and left my ass behind, WINSTON?”

The droid emits a soft trill at the sound of its name, indicating it has heard its call word and is awaiting instruction.

“Yeah, you’re right. They’d never abandon something so valuable. Smart of me to keep you close then, huh?”

WINSTON sits in silence as Will talks to it like he’s actually expecting an intelligent response. It’s an old habit, but suddenly he feels like a madman for it. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, unmindful of the foreign dirt that coats his gloves. “Guess I’m gonna have to go all the way back to get one myself. WINSTON, enter transport mode.”

The droid trills again at its name and then emits three rapid pings to indicate it has understood its directive. Will follows it out of the dense forest as it rolls toward the coordinates of his hoverbike and then pauses beside it while he mounts it and gets it going. WINSTON gives a beep as its navigation unit syncs to Will’s vehicle, and Will takes off, the droid keeping pace and direction with him.

He grumbles internally as he travels back to the ship, cursing not for the first time his misfortune at having been stationed on a team that so thoroughly hates him. He’d thought things were perhaps turning around when Hannibal joined the crew; the newer agent didn’t seem to share the opinion of the collective on Will, even going out of his way to attempt to befriend him - which was usually met with paranoid suspicion and gnashing teeth on Will’s end.

Perhaps the unusual man hadn’t heard Will’s call. Or perhaps he’s finally wised up and figured out that Will isn’t worth the hassle.

He hadn’t made it out very far at all, so it’s a quick trip back to base. Will puts WINSTON in standby mode to wait outside with the bike and then lets himself in, fully intending to bitch out the first person he comes across despite whatever excuse they might have for ignoring his calls.

He can tell at once that something is off, though he can’t get a bead on  _ what, _ exactly. Though Erebus is a smaller class vessel, he doesn’t expect to hear activity wherever he goes, so the fact no sound reaches his ears when he enters isn’t exactly unusual.

It’s the  _ heaviness _ of the silence that makes his skin prickle, stirs the tiny hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. He feels alert, but he can’t particularly say why. The anxiety building in his gut is amplified at once, twisting together now with trepidation as Will steps through the hull of the ship. He could ignore the strange feeling, go to the equipment room and grab a new device, be on his way and out of the suffocating tension in minutes. Something stops him from doing so.

He thinks about calling out to someone, even if they are all being dicks and not responding to him. He thinks that maybe even just hearing his  _ own _ voice in the stillness will be enough to slice through churning thoughts that are quickly becoming unhelpfully paranoid.

Something stops him from doing that too.

He doesn’t really process the movement of bending down to retrieve the blaster strapped to his calf, nor the idea to do so even forming in his mind. But in a moment he finds himself armed, his body tense and hackles raised and stepping with extreme care to remain silent as he moves deeper into the ship.

Someone is almost always in the galley, so he heads that way first. The kitchen is empty, the quiet whine of the fridge the only noise in the room. Will pauses in his tracks as he considers that. The  _ only _ sound… Usually the air filtration and recycling system is most prominently heard in the galley. He stares at the vent in the upper corner of the room, treading over to it slowly as he removes his gloves. He can tell before he’s even over the grate that there’s no movement coming from it.

No additional oxygen being pushed into the room. 

Will’s heart pounds at the discovery. There are  _ very _ few reasons the air system would be off, and  _ none _ of them would have occurred without the entire crew being informed about it.

“WANDA,” Will whispers as loud as he dares, feeling immediately exposed as his voice breaks the silence. “WANDA,” he tries a bit louder when the central processing unit of the ship doesn’t respond to the call word.  _ Off? _ There’s even  _ fewer _ reasons  _ that _ would be the case.

Will makes his way back out into the main hallway of the ship, casting his gaze from side to side as he inches slowly forward. When he comes upon the first fork in the hallway, he nearly stumbles over something strewn across the floor, only barely managing to catch himself on the smooth metal wall. 

He’s hit with a sudden realization, horror settling thick and heavy in his stomach and constricting his throat as he is able to make out  _ body parts.  _ An arm lays in his path, and when he looks a little further to the left he sees the head and rest of the body. It’s Freddie, her red hair easily distinguishable even when covered in the bright crimson of blood. 

He almost says her name, though it’s clear she’s dead from the sheer amount of blood splattered all across the floor and up the walls, some even on the ceiling above him. “Something is on the ship.” He mutters to himself more than anyone else, and makes his way back to the front of the ship. 

“WINSTON.” He calls for the droid and is overwhelmingly relieved when it activates and hovers beside him. “Activate weapons protocol. Fire only when instructed.” 

The droid makes a mechanical whirring sound, as though to confirm Will’s orders, and they make their way quietly back inside. He sees now what he missed before, to the right of the hallway there is a glass-lined wall of offices, and Sutcliffe is in one of them, body slumped over his desk and blood dripping down the side. 

He’s worried for Hannibal, perhaps more than one might consider reasonable for a relative stranger.

He moves toward the office slowly, his steps slowed by leaden feet, his heart pounding all the harder when he sees the mess of what little body actually remains of the scientist. He’s been eviscerated completely, his chest and stomach a gaping hole where once sat his internal organs. Will’s stomach clenches, unprepared for such a gruesome sight even after witnessing what had become of Freddie.

_ Two down...two to go. _ He can’t stop the thought, morbid as it is, even as a frantic buzz that feels like panic bubbles up within him at the thought of stumbling across Hannibal in a similar state. Relative stranger though he is, Will can’t stomach the thought of that, nor push aside the incessant worry that swells thick and heavy in his chest.

He turns in the direction of the bunks, intent on tracking down the man as soon as possible when a scream pierces the thick stillness of the ship and halts him in his tracks. He’d like to  _ think _ the voice doesn’t belong to Hannibal, but it’s truly impossible to tell, the sound beginning as one of terror and quickly devolving into an anguished cry before it is silenced abruptly. Will shivers at the return of nothingness to his ears, his skin prickling uncomfortably.

All the same, he moves in that direction, fueled by the - arguably  _ suicidal - _ curiosity that drives his body forward. 

He locates the source at one of the short range shuttles, drawn to a stop to stare dumbfoundedly through the open door as he views what’s left of Chilton being devoured by an alien creature Will has never even  _ heard of  _ before, and he can’t deny the surge of absolute smugness and elation that flashes through him at having been proven so thoroughly  _ right. _

The fact he might be next on the docket for evisceration quells his victorious celebration, but still Will can only stare on as the...the  _ creature _ contentedly makes a meal of Frederick Chilton’s remains.

It’s large, almost too big to be housed comfortably in the shuttle, stretching nearly to the ceiling and half as wide, a dark mess of teeth and tentacles. From its head is sprouted a pair of horns, twisted and branched like the mockery of an elk or buck. Will realizes he’s forgotten about the droid whirring about at his side until it lets out a low trill at having identified an entity it doesn’t know how to class. The sound pulls the creature’s attention to the doorway, and Will can see that its eyes glow a stark red and knows, even with no pupils to speak of, when its focus finds Will.

“WINSTON,” the name leaves Will’s lips before he even thinks to say it, his eyes tracking the way the creature’s head tilts at the word and its eyes slide immediately to the droid at his side almost as if…

Almost as if it  _ knows. _

“Deactivate defense protocol.”

He doesn’t remember deciding to say  _ those _ words  _ either. _

Beside him, WINSTON’s low whirrs stutter to a halt, the droid shifting back into its standard, less aggressive programming. Will’s own grip on his blaster feels sweaty at best, and though he knows the smart thing to do would be to raise it, ready a defense for himself, something halts his movements. His mouth works silently, brain tirelessly attempting to formulate a statement, a word, a  _ sound _ aimed at this creature as though he might somehow be able to start a dialogue, find out what it is, what it wants.

_ What it  _ wants _ is to glut itself on every crew member on this ship, _ Will reminds himself harshly, gritting his teeth against any peaceful communication that might threaten to spill from his lips.

“Where’s Hannibal?” he growls instead, as though this thing might have any idea what he’s talking about. And yet, its head tilts to the side almost as if in curiosity.  _ “Hannibal,” _ Will repeats firmly. “Did you kill him?”

It’s not until the creature reaches out to him that Will is spurred into action. He should raise his gun, shoot, he  _ knows _ this. He also gets the sense if this creature intended any  _ true _ harm upon him, he’d never have the opportunity to even try. He stumbles back several paces, out of the reach of the fluid appendage that stretches towards him and then turns, his feet pounding against the floor one after the other as he banks his luck on the notion he may be able to  _ outrun _ this thing should it attempt to pursue him.

He can hear it behind him, the slide of its slick body along the metal floor of the ship, its tentacles slapping against the walls and ceilings to propel it along the corridor. Will runs faster, bounding breathlessly toward the crew quarters and halting only when he reaches Hannibal’s and slams the door shut behind him.

It’s empty, which is both a relief and a frustration. As much as he would enjoy the evidence of Hannibal’s safety, he’s even more worried that he’ll find evidence of something entirely different. The galley and his room were the two places Hannibal seemed to spend the most time when he wasn’t pestering Will into the tentative, unwilling beginnings of a friendship. The next best place to search him out would be the nav deck, and Will has half a mind to try outrunning the creature pursuing him once more to continue on when his gaze is snagged upon Hannibal’s tablet, the word WANDA pulling his attention like a five-alarm fire.

He can hear the creature just outside of the door, though it’s not making any moves to break into the room, almost  _ polite  _ while it seemingly waits for Will to open the door. He ignores the ridiculousness of that concept in favor of plucking up the tablet, eyes scanning over the words quickly. Hannibal had been researching the ship systems, including how to fully deactivate WANDA. 

If he’d managed to do that it would explain why all the systems were down, no oxygen being pumped into the environment, and why Will’s comms hadn’t worked. But why? Had he heard what was happening to the crew and tried to stop the creature? 

He considers for a brief, absurd second, the intelligence he’d seen in the creature’s eyes, the clear sentience. And, craziest of all, how  _ familiar  _ those eyes had seemed. A darker, deeper red than the amber he was accustomed to, but similar all the same. It wasn’t possible. This creature on the other side of the door couldn’t  _ possibly _ be his missing crewmate. 

Will takes several calming breaths, dropping the tablet back to the desk, and curls his fingers against the edge to steady himself. He walks himself through the logic, considering everything he knows about Hannibal and about the ship. Hannibal hadn’t been in any of the main areas - dead  _ or  _ alive - and he hadn’t been in the halls. He wasn’t in his room, so that only left the navigation deck.  _ Or.  _

Fingers run carelessly through his curls, getting tangled in some of the knots left from the wind tossing them during his journey to and from the forest. He can’t shake the idea though, the longer he sits with it the more it latches on and won’t let go. By the time he’s reaching out for the door panel to unlock it, he’s certain he’s crazy but right, or that he’s about to die bloody. 

As soon as the door slides open he’s being pressed against the cot behind him by the shifting form of the monster, its black, smooth tentacles coalescing into something solid enough that Will can feel them dragging along his skin, wrapping around his hips to hold him in place. His knees hit the edge of the cot and nearly buckle, only the creature’s grip around him keeping him standing.

“H-hannibal?” Will isn’t truly surprised when the creature makes a soft sound of acknowledgement, its face close enough to nearly rub cheeks with Will. He notices the form begin to shift, the body taking on a more solid shape seemingly at will. It’s  _ fascinating.  _ In all his studies, even with his belief in intelligent life, he’d never imagined he’d actually prove it during his lifetime, certainly never expected to be so intimately close to such a life form. 

“I’m so glad you’re not dead, I was worried.” One of Hannibal’s tentacles - and he can be certain now this  _ is  _ Hannibal - slides along his jaw in a tender caress, and Will’s eyes slip closed for a second at the sheer regard he sees reflected in those large, red eyes. Another tentacle cradles Will’s skull, pulling him forward gently until their foreheads touch. 

Hannibal has a seemingly endless number of tentacles, and when Will opens his eyes again he can see Hannibal’s form has grown even  _ more,  _ the creature able to shift its mass however it desires. One of the larger tentacles that appears most like an arm starts to tug at Will’s suit, pulling impatiently at the various buttons and straps that keep him protected in unfamiliar environments. 

“...What?” Will asks breathlessly, shivering as he’s deftly freed from his top. One of the smaller tentacles circles his left nipple, pulling a sharp hiss from behind Will’s teeth. It’s cold, at first, but warms up immediately, like something molten sinking into his skin. It doesn’t tarry on his nipple long, slithering down his body to press against his groin where he’s grown hard in his pants, just from this relatively innocent contact. “Oh.” He replies dumbly, understanding striking him suddenly, like a ship in hyperdrive, arousal clenching hot and tight in his gut seconds later. “Okay, yes.” He tries to nod, but feels like his head is swimming as he does, so he closes his eyes again on a whimper. 

They snap open immediately when all sensation is suddenly removed, and as his vision clears he sees Hannibal standing in front of him, human again. “Wait, what happened? Are you okay?” 

Hannibal smiles at him indulgently, reaching out with a very human, broad palm to tilt Will’s chin up, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I presumed a familiar form would be more...palatable for you if we are to be intimate.” 

“What? No. Change back...can you? Change back? I have so many questions but we can get to those  _ much _ later. I want all of you, Hannibal. Everything you have to offer.” 

Hannibal seems surprised by Will’s eagerness, and it makes Will’s cheeks pinken in embarrassment at how  _ desperate  _ he sounds. But it doesn’t take long for Hannibal to smirk at him, handsome and pleased, and he doesn’t hesitate once he’s received Will’s permission to continue. 

Will watches in rapt fascination as Hannibal simply seems to  _ melt  _ before his eyes, one moment the human form he’s become so familiar with, and the very next second returning to the black, nearly formless mass he now knows. The tentative strokes and tugs of tendrils are gone, replaced by a confident and greedy touch Will can only cede to with a breathy sigh as Hannibal’s tentacle-like appendages tear him free from the rest of his clothing.

He’d always had a fascination with the concept of something  _ else _ being out there, certain their universe was far too large to contain only the bipedal, carbon-based creatures that happened to sprout to life upon the planet Earth back in the day. He never thought that fascination would extend to a sexual level, that one day he’d feel the foreign tentacles of something  _ other _ wrapping around his own limbs and fall completely slack in its grip, his cock hard and leaking and  _ aching  _ for something to touch it.

He can’t stop the whimper that falls from his mouth as Hannibal attacks him from all sides, four tendrils snaking around his wrists and ankles, urging him back until he falls flat against the cot behind him, even as others come into play, gliding along Will’s skin as though mapping it out; flicking across his nipples, brushing against his balls, one coiling loosely around his flushed cock even as another mimics the grip around his throat.

He moans out a plea to continue when yet another brushes against his entrance. The tentacles aren’t  _ slimy,  _ but slick in a way that helps them glide across him effortlessly, slip into him as easily as if they’d used a lubricant to aid their joining. He fights against the hold on his legs as Hannibal slips into him, attempting to spread them further still and rocking his hips down into the sensation of being speared open.

“Fuck, Hannibal, that’s - Oh,  _ please don’t stop -” _

“Beautiful thing. So separate from all the other humans.  _ Bear my young.” _ Will hears the words in his head, eyes snapping open but immediately sliding closed again as the pressure increases around his cock. 

"Yes," Will moans, impossibly aroused by the concept though he has no fucking clue what it even  _ means,  _ what exactly it might entail. Hannibal rewards his hasty acceptance with another languid stroke of the tentacle wrapped around his cock, the one buried inside him twisting expertly to rub against his prostate. "Fuck, yes, please Hannibal -"

“We can communicate while I’m inside of you, a telepathic bond meant to help foster closeness with a potential host for our young. The bond will remain intact during incubation, allowing us to maintain our connection and also enable you to communicate on a more basic level with the eggs.” 

“E-eggs?” Will groans, breathless as his entire body arches into Hannibal’s touch. 

Hannibal hums in response, both a sound Will hears echoing in the room around them as well as within his own head. “Laid directly into your stomach; just a small clutch.” One of Hannibal’s larger tentacles abandons its loose grip on his throat and drags slowly down Will’s bared stomach, and he shudders at the sensation, at the idea of being full of Hannibal in more than one way. 

“Do it, Hannibal. I want you to, want to help you, want to  _ feel you,”  _ Will pleads, and Hannibal chuckles inside of his head. 

“You’re already feeling me, dear Will. I’m inside of you even now.” Will opens his eyes to glare, leaning forward to nip at the edge of Hannibal’s mouth. He smiles broadly, revealing rows of sharp, deadly teeth and a blood-red tongue stained even darker with the remnants of the crew. Will is helpless but to close the remaining distance and kiss Hannibal, his monster startling at first but relaxing quickly into the sensation. 

“If you don’t fuck me within the next few seconds I’m going to leave you behind on this planet.” Will growls, nipping playfully again at Hannibal’s lip. 

“Perish the thought, sweet boy.” Hannibal doesn’t hesitate this time, replacing the smaller tentacle currently teasing along Will’s prostate with a much larger one, this one filling him up and splitting him open, leaving behind a not altogether unpleasant ache. 

“Yes,  _ more,”  _ Will demands, spreading his thighs as best he can while being pinned in place to the thin mattress, Hannibal holding him up. 

“After I’ve bred you, filled you with my young, I’ll fuck you again in my human form, have you bursting with my seed.” 

Will groans, shifting his body against Hannibal’s and trying to impale himself even further on the tentacle holding him open and spreading his rim wide. Before he can close his mouth again Hannibal slips a tentacle past his lips, massaging along his tongue to trigger salivation before sliding effortlessly down his throat. 

Will is surprised when he doesn’t gag immediately, his throat actually growing lax and accommodating rather than clenching tightly around the intrusion. He isn’t sure if this bond works both ways, but he tries to send a question through it. “Why aren’t I choking?” 

Hannibal doesn’t respond at first, seemingly focused intently on invading Will’s body from both ends, the tentacle in his throat finally stopping before it starts to grow in size, Will able to feel something large and solid sliding down it from the inside. 

“My species can numb our prey and also potential hosts with a substance found on our tentacles. I’ve applied just enough to your throat to suppress your gag reflex, but not enough to keep you from feeling every moment of our coupling.” 

Another lump follows the first, and then another, sliding down Will’s throat to settle into his gut. He can feel himself start to panic, even against his own will, unsure of exactly what is taking place and not knowing how to deal with it. Hannibal must glean his unease through their bond, because the tentacles around his cock and buried in his ass begin a slow, sensuous rhythm, distracting Will entirely as pleasure strikes through his body with each stroke of his cock, every time Hannibal curls against his prostate.

He lets himself get lost in the pleasure, trusting the rest of his body to Hannibal’s care and machinations. All the same, he attempts to track the sensation of the eggs Hannibal feeds down his throat, and thinks the process ends with five or six, though it’s right around that time that another of Hannibal’s tendrils brushes against his balls again and gives a firm tug and then Will can only arch into the touch of his monster, spasm around him and beneath him as his cock is milked of every drop of release he possesses.

A moment later, Hannibal recoils from his throat and he can  _ breathe _ again, great gasping breaths as he shudders under Hannibal’s touch in the aftermath of the most powerful orgasm he’s ever experienced. He has the fleeting thought he should be relieved to have full access to his airway again, but all he can really think about is how  _ hollow _ he feels without Hannibal inside him, even as his thick tentacle continues to thrust lazily into his clenching body, his rim raw and sore but still lax and accommodating.

“Do you - can you - orgasm in this form?” Will is breathless, his throat aching enough that he uses their mental bond again to communicate. 

“Of course,” Hannibal confirms, his body leaning heavily against Will and keeping him pinned down, his tentacle increasing it’s pace where it rubs against Will’s slick inner walls. 

“Come inside, wanna feel it, feel  _ you,”  _ Will pleads, and Hannibal’s grin grows dangerous, his eyes glinting darkly at the suggestion. 

Will loses time as Hannibal thrusts into him over and over again, keeping him spread wide. By the time he feels Hannibal spill inside him, his come warmer than any human Will has ever known and his tentacle growing impossibly larger, Will is gasping for breath. He feels split open and raw, but desperate for more; has already,  _ impossibly, _ grown hard again. He wonders, absently, if this is a side-effect of whatever toxin Hannibal had mentioned before; meant to keep him sedate, singing with pleasure,  _ begging _ for more.

Part of him hopes it is, almost  _ ashamed _ of the noises he’s making for this creature, the way he allows it to do as it wishes with him. Part of him knows he only feels this way because it’s  _ Hannibal, _ and, against all odds, the newest crew member of Erebus was able to break through every wall Will had built up around him with very little effort.

“You killed everyone.” The realization hits Will suddenly, and he’s surprised at how at ease he is by the notion. Hannibal shifts, then, his human form just as heavy and capable of keeping Will held in place. He finds he feels soothed by Hannibal’s strength, something almost animal in his hindbrain pleased in finding such a capable mate.

“We don’t need them. We can navigate this ship on our own, go anywhere we desire.” It’s almost startling to hear Hannibal’s voice aloud after the last several minutes of hearing it only in his mind, but Will finds it oddly comforting in a way he’s never felt before. At least not for another human.

Will accepts the reasoning with an easy nod, unbothered by the carnage Hannibal left behind. The bodies will help nourish them, will help him better house the eggs settling warm and heavy inside of him. They are more than capable of navigating the ship, and Will intends on disconnecting them from the Nav as soon as he can get his shaky legs to work again. 

Hannibal takes note of Will’s erection, wrapping a warm palm around him and sliding it along his shaft, pinning him with his gaze as he touches him. Will moans, broken and needy, helpless but to rut into the sensation. 

“Fuck me,  _ please,  _ wanna feel you like this too,” Will is breathless, barely able to whimper out the words. Hannibal’s smile is pleased and broad. 

“I told you I would, darling boy. I need to fertilize our young, after all.” Will shudders at the reminder of the heaviness within his stomach and what exactly it is. He feels so attached already, surprisingly fond of the eggs inside of him. 

“Do it, fill me with your seed,” Will demands, spreading his thighs wider in welcome. 

Hannibal doesn’t hesitate, rutting between Will’s legs and catching on his lax rim, pushing into his willing body in a smooth thrust that drives Will’s breath from his lungs. 

The pace is quick and brutal from the start, hard enough to push Will’s body up the bed. Hannibal wraps his arms around Will’s head to help keep him held in place, driving himself into Will’s clenching hole over and over again. 

“I know you want me to spill inside of you, darling, but I’ll need to place it in your stomach - this time - directly onto the eggs.” Will nods dumbly, only barely capable of understanding the words. He doesn’t care where or when, he just knows he wants Hannibal inside of him, filling him up and keeping him open, just like this. 

Will is close, stomach tightening and skin flushed when Hannibal pulls out of him, wrapping a hand around himself and stroking his slick cock. He looks perfectly human like this, but as he watches he sees Hannibal’s form shimmer, a tentacle appearing and sliding between Will’s legs to keep him open, seeking out his prostate. 

“I can combine our seed, Will, use us both to fertilize our eggs if you want, you must tell me now.” Hannibal’s free hand takes Will’s shaft, a smooth and easy glide as he keeps Will hovering just on the edge of release. The tentacle inside of him is insistent, the pressure on his prostate threatening to send him over the edge. 

“Yes, do it,” Will  _ keens,  _ Hannibal’s pace increasing on his cock. When Will comes it feels almost like dying for a second, his entire body seizing tight before growing totally relaxed and practically boneless. Hannibal captures his release in his palm and slicks his own cock with it before shuffling up to Will’s face and sliding himself into his mouth. 

Will opens for him instantly, his throat still lax from the previous intrusion, and Hannibal thrusts deeply into him, stilling suddenly and spilling enough seed that Will can  _ feel it  _ as it coats his insides, slicking his throat and his stomach. He almost imagines he can feel it where it splashes against the eggs, warm and thick and virile. 

He moans as Hannibal’s tongue replaces his cock with near immediacy, the man above him licking insistently into his mouth as his tentacle stills in its lazy thrusts and spills once more inside of Will. He barely registers Hannibal’s form shifting against him again, blissed out as he is, but he recognizes after several deep, breathless kisses that Hannibal is entirely human once more, draped over Will and curled around him almost possessively.

They move to reposition in the same moment, as though both realizing they could be more comfortable, and shift together until they share the cot on their sides, pressed face to face with one another, all the while continuing their soft, meandering kisses.

Will basks in the pleasant haze of being so thoroughly fucked out, curls close to Hannibal, receiving his kisses and returning them in kind as much as he can with the stupid grin stretching across his lips.

"Are there more like you?" He almost doesn’t realize he hasn’t even spoken the question until his lover’s answer pulses gently in his mind, even as his lingering kisses continue.

Hannibal brushes his hand over Will’s throat and down to his stomach, cupping it gently, reverently. "Not as many as there will be." 

Will smiles, pulling back slightly to gaze at the man next to him. His voice is wrecked when he forces his vocal chords into action, and feels immense gratitude that the mental bond between them remains, though Hannibal’s lips pull into a smug smile at Will’s rough rasp. "Take me to them."

**Author's Note:**

> We hope you enjoyed this kinky delight! 
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